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There’s no way to know. No one to ask.
I know one thing. No relationship can be built on a foundation of lies. I don’t think I need to tell him everything, but I should at least be honest about what I do decide to share.
Soren sits patiently, giving me time to gather my thoughts without making me feel rushed.
That’s something I’ve noticed about him. He’s steady. Solid. Like a boulder in a rushing river, unmovable and patient—insisting the world make room for him and not the other way around.
“It was different,” I admit. “Once I was Designated, the only Alphas I was allowed around were my father and the guards he employed. Once I became an Omega, I wasn’t allowed to leave the estate anymore. So it was a bit of a shock waking up to a huge Alpha looming over me in the middle of the night.”
My lips twitch, remembering the confusion on Caelan’s face when I didn’t immediately freak out.
“I think it surprised us both—but mainly because neither of us reacted the way we probably should have.”
Soren hums thoughtfully. He doesn’t look angry, which gives me hope. But looks can be deceiving.
“You never scented him, though?”
“No, our Bond is… different.”
I hesitate briefly, choosing to keep my Bonds with Vae and Dax to myself for now. I’ll tell Soren eventually, but I don’t think being Mates requires me to tell him everything within twenty-four hours of meeting, does it?
“Yeah, you mentioned something about that last night. You said it started as a pool of liquid, then turned into a thread?” Soren tilts his head to the side, golden strands falling in waves over his shoulder.
The way he looks at me… It’s like he’s genuinely interested in what I’m saying. It makes this feel more like a conversation than an interrogation.
“It happened during the ambush,” I confirm. “I don’t know when, but something changed. And it acts different, too. It reacts to what’s happening, like it has feelings—emotions—of its own. It’s a part of me, but it’s also… something else.”
When I check on Soren’s reaction, I’m relieved to see he still doesn’t seem angry—but he does look confused. Still, he doesn’t push, content to sit with my words while he processes.
It’s nice. Calm. Like the first fresh snow on a dark winter’s night when everything is shrouded in white, and the world waits on a precipice of something new. Something hopeful.
Finally, with a deliberate calmness, like he’s picking each word carefully, he says, “I’ve never heard of a Bond acting like that.”
The words are almost identical to Dax and Vae’s. It’s a response I’ve heard over and over—thrown out as proof that my Bond is a lie.
My fear is too ingrained. Too much a part of me to simply slide off my shoulders.
He doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m lying. Just like Vae. Just like Dax.
My stomach plummets. My Omega whines behind her brick wall, and I echo it on instinct, cringing at the desperation ringing through the sound.
“Idril?”
Soren inches closer, but the panic has already set in.
“You think I’m lying.” I pull my legs up, wrap my arms around them, and pull them closer into my body. I want so badly to make myself smaller. To disappear.
If no one can find me, then no one can hurt me.
Soren’s eyes widen. He shifts up to his knees and wraps his hands around the bars, frantically shaking his head. My eyes lock onto his tattoos as his fingers flex and tighten around the iron.
“Idril, no. I believe you, I swear. I’m only trying to understand.”
He looks so earnest. I want to believe him. I want my Mate to trust and believe in me—to be on my side.
Fate can’t possibly want to destroy me that badly, right? Surely, there are much easier ways to do so than being rejected over and over and over.
And isn’t that why I fought so hard last night? Didn’t I just decide that being scared isn’t the same as giving up? Don’t I owe it to myself—as well as Soren—to take a chance?
